


A Chance

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar won, F/M, Jon is a Targaryen prince, Robert Baratheon is dead, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12906786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: He was sure that first impressions would be terrible ones, but he was the Prince of Dragonstone and he had always known his marriage would be a political one. Lord Stark’s elder daughter was said to be a beauty, but she had been married to Willas Tyrell almost a year ago. The second daughter was a mystery, but Jon supposed it was only fair. A second daughter to a second son.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandachanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandachanda/gifts), [museme87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museme87/gifts).



He looked through the window with anxiety. From his room he could partially see the courtyard and the banners waving in the wind. If in a way it felt wonderful to get to know his mother’s family and at get familiar with his northern inheritance, it also meant he would soon have to face his destiny.

There was a heavy sense of expectation hanging in the air. Since Lord Stark crushed the Ironborns’ rebellion in spite of all the bad blood between him and the King the Small Council agreed that it was about time for the man’s honor and loyalty to be rewarded.

His uncle had dutifully brought him back from the Tower of Joy once Robert Baratheon was killed in battle, even under the risk of being executed by treason. He had faced the rage of the King’s Counselors and stood his ground demanding the infant to be given to the Starks to be raised as one of them, as Lady Lyanna would have wished for.

Of course Rhaegar Targaryen refused the man. With his other children dead, the boy with dark hair and gray eyes was his only hope of continuity. Lord Stark was allowed to go back to Winterfell and his family as long as he left the child behind and the relationship between the Crown and the North became a strained one.

His father and King used to say that he had Eddard Stark in high esteem, even if Lord Stark could never forgive him for what happened during the war. His uncle was said to be a good and honorable man that enjoyed his quiet life and had a large family. _And an unwed daughter._

That thought was inevitable.

It seemed that Jon’s fate was tied to the North and whatever sort of women they could provide the young prince. Lord Tywin Lannister had tried for years to betroth the prince to his gran-daughter, but the King had no taste for alliances with the West even if pardon had been granted to House Lannister once Jaime was executed.

King Rhaegar was adamant to secure the North’s support once winter came, that meant Jon would marry Lord Stark’s daughter and one of his sons would be given a place in the Small Council.

He didn’t know what to expect of his bride or even what to think of that arrangement. The North had cause to be displeased with that marriage as much as they had cause to dislike the Targaryens for what happened to Lord Rickard and his heir. Jon had no cause to face his cousins and uncle with distrust, but he couldn’t say that they had cause to like him.

There would be a feast in Lord Stark’s honor and the announcement would be made afterwards. After that the wedding would take place in a month. The King wasn’t willing to give Lord Stark reason to break the agreement or time for him to find a way out of the new Pact of Ice and Fire.

Jon looked at his image reflected in the looking glass. He had little to offer to his bride except for his title. He lacked his father’s elegant face and silver blond hair. He wasn’t as ugly as Lord Tyrion Lannister, but it was common knowledge that Prince Jon was a plain lad. Viserys used to say that he looked like a peasant.

He was sure that first impressions would be terrible ones, but he was the Prince of Dragonstone and he had always known his marriage would be a political one. Lord Stark’s elder daughter was said to be a beauty, but she had been married to Willas Tyrell almost a year ago. The second daughter was a mystery, but Jon supposed it was only fair. A second daughter to a second son.

He arrived at the feast only to be surprised by the fact that his soon-to-be bride wouldn’t attend it. Prince Jon looked at the guests with apprehension and anxiety. Lord Stark stood by the King’s side looking at the festivities as if they were somehow offensive. Jon guessed neither of the parts involved were exactly pleased with the arrangement.

His uncle looked at him once they were formally introduced and Jon witnessed one of Lord Stark’s rare smiles.

“You look like your mother.” He said with fondness. “I’m glad to see Lyanna’s boy grown into a fine lad.”

“Thank you, my lord. I’m glad to finally get to know my lady mother’s family. I’ve been told I took after her in nearly everything. Maybe now I won’t feel so out of place in this palace.” Jon answered while trying his best to be pleasant and polite.

“I would have had you raised in the North among my children. Lyanna would have liked for you to be familiar with the land and your kin. Maybe now you’ll find your peers. Your cousin Robb will be staying at court in my place.” Lord Stark took a deep breath and if it costed him every fiber of his strength to agree with those terms. “And my girl...My Arya will help you in this as well.”

“I hope by dear cousin is fine. I was disappointed by her absence.” That was true even if it was also a relive to be spared that awkward moment. He would prefer to meet the lady in private, or at least with only a couple of chaperons so their conversation could be a bit less awkward.

“She felt a bit indisposed. The journey was a tiresome one, but you shall meet her soon enough.” The old man seemed to be burdened with a deep sorrow. That made Jon wonder if his bride was by any chance her father’s favorite. “I’m giving you my little girl for you to love and treasure. She is very dear to my heart and I hope you’ll prove yourself worthy of such prize.”

“I’ll do my best, my lord.” Jon lowered his head obediently. To say that he was intimidated was an understatement of it.

Jon took his place at the high table and tried to ignore all those hard looks from the northerners directed to him. The King seemed to be unimpressed by the whole affair, while Jon tried to understand what exactly he had done to deserve all those gloomy and murderous faces starring at him as if he had stabbed Lord Stark’s daughter.

His cousin Robb seemed to be the only one slightly sympathetic in their party. He also didn’t look northerner. Lord Stark’s heir had a pleasant face made of blue eyes, red hair, easy smiles and pleasant manners. He told Jon he had a wife that would be joining him at the capitol once their first child had been born.

The Prince didn’t know how to react to those news exactly. He congratulated his cousin and nothing else. For some reason Robb thought his reaction to be amusing and muffled a light laugh. Jon felt suddenly embarrassed and outraged for being mocked by someone that was supposed see him as his superior.

“Your Highness looks like someone ready to burst in to tears.” Robb said while he laughed. “I know it feels strange, but things will only get worse if you act like a frightened animal. My sister smells fear from a distance so...Be brave.”

“If that was supposed to be an encouragement, you might want to reconsider your words. They are not helping me a single bit.” Jon answered bitterly.

“I felt the same before meeting Alys, but things turned to be just fine for us.” Robb tried to sound more optimist this time.

“How is your sister like? What should I know about her?” Jon asked carefully and those questions made Robb chew his food as slowly as he was trying to buy some time to think.

“Arya will keep you busy, that’s for sure. She likes horses and hunting. She also likes archery, swords and anything she is told to be forbidden.” Robb answered with care and suspicion. “I guess she would prefer to be a knight than a princess, but we are what we are. She will have to live with what life gave her.”

“I take she isn’t pleased with the marriage then.” Jon concluded without much enthusiasm.

“I guess she hates the perspective of marrying at all. It’s not personal and I can’t say that my sister really cares about you being the prince. She would react the same way if you were a stable boy or a smith.” Robb sighed. “She is young and willful. Be gentle with her and...I don’t know. Prove her that you are a decent person and she will treat you fairly. Maybe one day she will come to like you. These things are unpredictable anyway.”

“It doesn’t sound promising.” Jon concluded soberly.

“It never does, but father says love grows with time if you work hard enough. You will never be bored with her by your side. Be good to her. Arya is well loved in the North and the household was in tears when we left. She is quick to make friends and easy to love if you approach her with honesty and kindness.”

Jon didn’t know how to understand those advises, but they certainly served to make him even more curious.

Once the feast was over Jon sneaked out of the castle to find refuge in the godswood.

That was a beautiful night and the fresh air was welcome after so many hours spent in asphyxiating anxiety. Jon found his cousin to be a good company and perhaps they could become friends in time. He would like that, especially now that Daenerys had been married off to the Martell prince. A friend was something he could use, especially when he felt so lost inside that palace.

Even if the northerners seemed to softened to his presence during the feast, Jon couldn’t say that Robb’s information about Lady Arya made him feel at easy. He felt miserable and somewhat rejected by the lady that hasn’t dignified herself to meet him on her first day at court. It was insulting and humiliating for a prince to stay on a feast, in front of the entire court and the northern guests, as his future wife refused to meet him.

The King had tried to cheer him up but saying that she was probably just tired, or was probably too shy. He encouraged his son to be optimist and confident for the sake of the alliance with the North, as if Jon had any choice in the matter.

As he sat by the heart tree he looked ahead and spotted a hooded figure approaching. Whomever it was didn’t seem to see him hidden on the shadows of the tree.

It was probably another northerner looking for their gods or just someone as tired as he was from all the protocol and meticulous talking inside the palace.

The person removed the hood, revealing the feminine face of a girl.

She was holding a bag that she hid in a gap at one of the sentinel’s trunk before turning to the heart tree. It looked like she was preparing to run away in the middle of the night. Maybe not that night, but surely soon. Judging by the fur of her cloak and her clothes she was probably northerner.

She looked at the heart tree and put her hands together in a prayer’s position.

“Please give me safe passage back North.” She whispered. “I don’t care about the damn Pact. I don’t want to marry this prince. I just want to go home.”

As he had feared, it could only be his cousin. Jon couldn’t help noticing who petite she was under her heavy clothes. Her long hair was braided in what Jon presumed to be a northern fashion and her face would be a pleasant one to look upon if she wasn’t crying.

Lady Arya didn’t want him and she had reach such a conclusion without even giving him a chance, just like Robb had said.

“It won’t work, my lady.” Jon spoke out loud, finally living his hiding place. Lady Arya gave two steps back once she was taken by surprise. “You wouldn’t get out of the palace fast enough and even if you did the City Watch would have every gate blocked. No one would enter or leave the city. Even if you succeeded the cost of your rebellion would be too high. It would likely bring another war to your people and winter is coming.”

Arya seemed ready to run away or fighting him back, but she seemed to consider for a second what would be the wisest course of action. After a while she simply sighted.

“We own nothing to the King.” She finally said with anger in her voice. “For twenty years the North has been loyal to the crown even after what happened during the Rebellion. I had my grandfather and uncle murdered within this castle. My own father was named a traitor just because the prince decided to had my aunt for his mistress. Now they want me to marry my royal cousin as if it was a great honor or compensation for all the blood spilled. Why should I resign to such a fate when such a union brings nothing but shame to my family?”

“Because another war would only mean more wasted blood and sorrow.” Jon answered while trying to ignore how much offended he was. She truly despised him. “The marriage was never meant as an insult to you or your house. The King wishes to reward the northern loyalty. Your son will be King one day. Your people’s needs will have voice in the Small Council.”

“Who are you to know about it? You know nothing about me or my family.” She insisted stubbornly.

“The man you already decided to hate and reject.” Jon sighed as he sat on a white root. Lady Arya looked at him as if she was seeing a ghost.

“I thought you were just a courtier.” She pointed slightly embarrassed, but without intention of asking for forgiveness or pay him homage as protocol demanded.

“I’m sorry that you feel so strongly against this union and I understand your reasons to feel so. At least...Part of them. My mother wasn’t a mistress. She was the King’s second wife. My father would never dishonor her in such a way.” He answered vehemently which made her snort.

“He dishonored her at the moment he placed the damn crown on her lap. Then he dishonored her in the moment he decided to take her to Dorne and leave behind his wife and children. This union between us is just...A farce. A way of recreating this fantasy of the love of Rhaegar and Lyanna in a legitimate way. It won’t erase the past mistakes though.” Arya insisted.

“You are really determinate to hate me, aren’t you?” He asked soberly.

“I don’t hate you, Your Highness.” She rolled her eyes. “The gods know you were the reason why my father was pardoned and also...You are innocent in all this. You didn’t ask to be born or to be a prince so I won’t hold this against you. It’s just this Pact and the whole marriage things that I abhor.”

“Like it or not, neither of us has the power to change this. Running away isn’t the answer.” Jon tried to sound reasonable and pragmatic for once, even if he felt truly humiliated.

“What would you have me do?” Arya questioned him with evident annoyance.

“I don’t know.” He answered as a matter of fact. “I’ve always known my marriage would be a political one. It’s my duty and I’m honored to serve my country in anyway I can. This rebellious nature that you have...This is a privilege I was never given.”

“So you would have me bow to the King’s will.” Lady Arya sighed as she grabbed her bag with supplies with evident anger. “What would you do if you had a choice in the matter? Would you still marry me?”

“I don’t know. I might still marry you anyway or don’t marry at all. Once I thought about becoming a member of the King’s Guard, until I found out I would never be able to...Maybe if my brother were still alive I might have had the chance of choosing some aspects of my life.” Jon answered with sincerity. “Since I’ll never know the answer for your question and I’ll never have a choice in the matter, the only thing I can do is to try to do my best to make this work. It will be difficult as long as you remain determinate to despise me and what the Pact means though.”

“I don’t despise you.” She insisted once more. “I don’t even know you so how could I despise you?”

“No...You just despise the idea of becoming my wife without even giving me a chance to prove you that I may be a worthy suitor to your hand. Your absence in the feast was noticed and the message was all too clear for me and anyone else. At least the King chose to not take offense from your gesture of rebellion, but I understood. I’m sorry to be a source of distress to you. I had hoped my lady would at least give me a chance to be your friend, but I guess I’ve been too naive about it. Goodnight, cousin.”

He turned his back at her and didn’t bother to look back even when she called him by his title several times. The whole experience had been just too overwhelming and Jon wished for nothing but the safety of his room so he could lick his wounds alone.

Once Jon got to his room his first impulse was to pick the miniature he kept inside his pocket. He looked at the tinny portrait as he would have looked to the image of the gods in the Great Sept. His mother’s face was a pretty one and she had kind eyes. Jon would later have to ask to his uncle if that was an accurate image of her, or if the King had crafted that image so Jon could have the sweetest image of his mother.

He couldn’t help noticing that Lady Arya and his mother looked almost the same.

_Is it a good thing though? My betrothed seems to loath the idea of marrying me. I know my place and my duty. I won’t fail in it, but what should I do with such a wild bride?_

Those thoughts were poison and Jon was aware of it. For a child whose life had been a lonely one, he had expected to find in the lady at least a friend. He just didn’t realize how much hate there was between their families. That was probably the worst arranged marriage ever made, but they would have to learn how to survive it.

 

/////

 

Jon woke up with a summon for him to join the King to break the fast at the royal solar. He would rather eat on his own instead of facing his father to discuss anything related to his marriage or his lessons, especially after the awkward episode with Lady Arya.

There was no option but to resign though. If the King wished to spend time with his only living child than Jon was bound to obey. He got properly dressed and went straight to the solar, wondering why his father was suddenly invested in paying attention to him.

He opened the door and found the King with an affable smile on his face. That was a relief to some extension. His father was in a good mood, which was supposed to work in Jon’s favor.

“What a busy night we had.” Rhaegar’s melodious voice seemed soaked in contentment. Whatever happened after Jon left the feast was surely a victory to the crown. “You made quite an impression on our guests. The northerners see in you a good perspective for the future. You seemed quite at ease with Lord Stark’s heir. How do you find him.”

All that sudden chat was unusual and Jon couldn’t help feeling a bit lost. He didn’t know exactly how to answer to the King’s curiosity, but at least he could tell Rhaegar that Robb seemed to be a pleasant company.

“Robb Stark has a good conversation. He doesn’t care much about rank and protocol, but that seems to be a regular trait among northerners.” Jon answered as he took his seat by his father’s right side. “It was good to talk to someone of my age for a change, although I’m not quite sure if I know how to be slightly entertaining.”

“Nonsense.” Rhaegar smiled fondly at him. “Lord Stark was very taken by you as well. That’s a good thing. Makes him more receptive to negotiations. Your marriage won’t happen without a fight, but fear not. You will have your wolf bride and this separatist talking will end.”

“I thought it was already settled.” Jon pointed with shock. “I thought that an announcement had already been made and the wedding would take place in a month.”

Rhaegar sipped at his chalice and had a few grapes before addressing the matter.

“Lord Stark is reluctant. He wanted to know you before committing to anything.” The King said soberly. “He fears that you may be too much like me for his taste. I also think the girl to be his favorite. Eddard didn’t think twice before wedding Sansa to Willas Tyrell. Not that I blame him. Willas is honorable, clever and reliable. Rich beyond measure and Highgarden is a true vision. Lady Arya is a second daughter and not half as attractive as her sister though. Her prospects were not so good, but Eddard never considered a match for the girl. There was talk with the Daynes. Arthur warned me about that much, but nothing too serious. The heir to the Throne is something Ned can’t ignore and his little girl would never find a better match.”

“I’m afraid that titles will have little effect on them. As I said...The northerners seem to ignore rank and protocol. They don’t care if I am the heir or not. They want proof of my character and I don’t even know why.” Jon replied sourly.

“This alliance will happen. At this point it is vital to us. I don’t trust Starks to be reasonable once they are triggered but they know their words. Winter is coming and they need us to survive as much as we need them to protect the North from wildling raids. Thank the gods Ned wedded a Tully and Lady Catelyn is a reasonable woman. Let us hope that it will be enough.”

“Have you seen my bride yet?” Jon questioned out of frustration.

“No, but I heard of a certain prince talking with a young lady in the godswood.” The King replied immediately. “For your own good, I hope you were talking with your cousin and not a random lady from court. You are bound to honor and respect Lady Arya and I won’t think twice before putting an end to any love affair you might have in this castle.”

“It was Lady Arya, Your Grace.” Jon answered miserably. That seemed to tranquilize the King.

“Good! What do you think of your bride?” The King questioned. “Do you find her to be of your liking?” At that Jon sighted.

“It’s hard to say. It was dark and I couldn’t see her properly.” Jon lied bluntly. He actually didn’t know what to think of her. Lady Arya wasn’t ugly. Her eyes were vivid and intense. Her hair was dark and she had a different sort of beauty he wasn’t used to. Her looks were not what bothered him. His insecurities lied in her distaste for the marriage and aversion to anything related to his name. “Lady Arya has a rebellious nature and she is quite vocal about how much she despises the idea of a marriage.”

“I would be disappointed if she were any different. She is said to look like your mother and my dearest Lyanna was a wild thing. She will come to terms with it in time.” Rhaegar tried to reassure him, but then the questions started to plague his head. His father rarely spoke of his dead wives and his own experiences. Jon had grown on histories of the great love of his parents and that seemed to be the only truth to the story, until Lady Arya reveled her outrage over the tale.

“She seemed to think the marriage to be a shameful thing. Our grandfather and uncle were murdered here...She claimed her father was named a traitor and that I am the reason why he was pardoned. I don’t understand, father.” Jon said while trying to conceal his exasperation. At those questions the King seemed to suddenly return to his usual melancholic mood.

“What happened to Rickard and Brandon was a tragedy. My father wasn’t a sane man and Brandon was a brave and bold fool. It was a terrible affair.” Rhaegar sighted. “They were traitors anyway and so was Ned and Robert Baratheon. Even so Lord Eddard have always been an honorable man. He brought you to the capitol after your mother’s death. His honor saved him from a traitor’s death.” The King rose from his seat and touched Jon’s shoulder in sign to encouragement and sympathy. “To the North I am and I will always be the villain. Your bride probably grew up with this notion and her distaste for the marriage is understandable. She is hardly the first woman to be married off against her will, but it doesn’t mean things won’t work for you. Be patient and kind.”

“Did it work for you and Princess Elia?” Jon asked in a rampant of boldness and for a long while there was only silence in the room.

“I think it’s enough of this for a day. You should invite Lord Stark and his son to a hunt this afternoon, or maybe think about a gift to send to your bride.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Her father arrived at her room when she had just put her cloak aside. He looked tired and frustrated since they left Winterfell, but on that night he seemed to be particularly exhausted. He gave her one of those apologetic smiles, making it quite clear that things wouldn’t go her way in the matters of the marriage.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Lord Stark said it to Arya as he took a chair by the fireplace to rest. “I’m doing everything I can, but Rhaegar is adamant in this. He wants you for this alliance. He won’t have any less than one of my children to fulfill the pact and your cousin is the only unwed prince at the moment.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Arya asked bitterly as she looked at her father.

“Not without risking war.” Her father answered soberly. “I would do anything to spare you of this, but we can’t afford another rebellion. There’s talk of separatism in the North and I fear you may have even taken a part in this, but don’t fool yourself believing these plans would work. Winter is coming, Arya. We can’t hope to survive it on our own and we need food that comes from South. If it were up to me, I would have you married to one of our banners. An honorable man that would keep you safe and near Winterfell, but things got out of control.”

“So I’ll marry the prince.” She concluded without a drop of enthusiasm over the idea.

“There are worst fates, I think.” Ned Stark tried to sound optimistic even if Arya didn’t want to hear a thing about her betrothed. “I met the lad today. He seems decent, only a bit shy. Robb talked with him during most of the feast and seems to like the boy.”

“I already met him.” Arya sighed. “I went to the godswood for quietness and he was there.”

“Well...I think you already have your own opinion about him, don’t you?” Ned questioned her with an indulgent smile.

“Obedient, dutiful and boring.” She snorted. “She seems to be perfectly at ease with this madness.”

“It’s not as if he had a choice in it. I’ve been indulgent with your willfulness, but it’s time to do what you must in order to protect our people.” Ned held her hand in an attempt of encouragement. “I would rather have you wedded to this boring and dutiful prince, than a cruel and violent one. You can go to Dragonstone and have your own household there until it’s time for Jon to take the crown. That would give me great comfort.”

“You really liked him, didn’t you?” She asked sadly. Ned rose from his seat and kissed her forehead gently.

“He reminds me of myself when I married you mother. You know the story and why I did it. We didn’t know each other, but I needed Lord Tully’s support during the Rebellion. We did what was necessary at the time and even if the perspectives were gloomy, I can’t say that I regret it. I truly love Cat. Your prince will come to love you just as much if you give him a chance.”

“It’s not as if I had a choice in the matter. I can give him a chance...I think.” Arya replied shyly and that must have given her father enough tranquility to go to his own chambers and have a bit of sleep.

Once she was alone, Arya laid on her new bed with nothing but her doubts and fears to keep her company. Yes...She sympathized with the idea of an independent North and the Starks ruling as Kings of Winter as it had been before The Conquest. Her father couldn’t tolerate the idea, but so far he had turned a blind eye to those who have been causing trouble and pretending that the separatist feeling wasn’t real.

Rhaegar’s spies were surely aware of it and the easiest way to put an end to it was getting a northern bride for his son.

She had loathed the idea of marrying the prince for everything that union meant. Arya refused to take a part in that farce willingly, but she didn’t want another war when winter was almost upon them. Her father was right. The North needed food from the South and they couldn’t hope to survive without it.

As for her betrothed, Arya had expected the prince to look more like a Targaryen or at least a trace of the famous valyrian looks. Prince Jon was not what she had expected. He actually looked like a thousand other young men she had seen at Winterfell and he favored the Stark’s colors. His hair was dark, his face was long and his eyes were gray. He could have passed for her father’s son without difficulty, since he looked more like a Stark than any of Arya’s siblings.

It was somehow a relief that Jon didn’t look like the King. His face was familiar and even his sober conversation could pass as northerner. That should be a good thing, but still Arya cried herself to sleep at the idea of marrying a complete stranger.

Instead of a servant girl, it was Robb the one to open her door loudly and wake her up with his insufferable good humor.

“Wake up and dress for riding. We are going to hunt today.” Robb declared as he opened the shutters of her window to allow the sun to illuminate the room.

“I thought I wasn’t allow to hunt, ride or have fun at all.” She answered in a groggy tone while rubbing her eyes. Robb laughed at that.

“You must thank me for this later.” Robb said with a confident grin. “Our royal cousin came to invite me for a hunt today and it happens that I told him during the feast last night that you enjoyed the sport. He asked me if it was a good idea to invite you to joying us. He thought you would be more likely to enjoy his company during a hunt than a formal event. I told him it was a terrific idea and that you would attend for sure.”

“I would rather have Sansa’s needles sticking my eyes. Thank you.” Arya growled angrily. Robb rolled his eyes at her reply.

“You can’t avoid him forever and father will sign the Pact later today. It will happen, Arya. Like it or not, you’ll become Princess of Dragonstone and Jon will be your husband in a month. Acting like this won’t help you a single bit and I must say...He is a decent man and he is honestly trying to please you.”

“You seem to be half in love with him already.” She said in a mocking tone that seemed to make Robb uncomfortable.

“Well...I would gladly hate the man if he were a snobbish piece of shit with all the southern presumption, but he is nothing like this. He was polite and quite friendly even when it was obvious that he was at the verge of a panic attack last night.” Robb defended their cousin so prettily that Arya couldn’t help laughing. “You laugh, but I’ve been in his place before. He wanted to cause a good impression on you and was anxious beyond words. Don’t be so difficult in this. I think you might really like him.”

“Fine! I’ll go, so you can have a moment with my future husband. I would hate to separate you from your beloved.” Arya teased him as she got out of bed. Robb attacked her with tickles for the audacity and soon both of them were laughing breathlessly.

At least she wouldn’t be alone when her father went back North. Robb and Alys would stay with her for a long while in court and maybe Bran would joying them later. She would have her small court to keep her company, if her husband proved to be as boring as he looked.

Arya would have worn breeches and doublet if she were at home, but life at court demanded her to dress more ladylike than she would have liked it. Her mother had new dresses made for her. Some of them were made according to the southern fashion while others were clearly northerner, with leather, fur and heavy fabrics. She picked one of those. It looked simple, practical and strong enough to survive a hunt. The skirt was not a voluminous one and the bodice was made of leather and there was a pair of gloves that matched it. Her mother must have realized that Arya would break the rules soon or later, so she should at least be dressed properly. That was thoughtful of her.

Once Arya was ready she tried to find her way to the stables, without much luck. The servants in the Red Keep seemed oblivious to her presence even when she was meant to become a princess. Arya supposed it was because she didn’t look like a princess at all. She was just a plain girl and probably not good enough for a prince.

Sansa would hardly pass by unnoticed inside the palace. Anyone who looked at her would instantly assume she was someone important. That had never been said about Arya. She was simply a girl with a common face. To a certain level it was a good thing to be able to pass by unnoticed. It granted her a certain amount of freedom.

“Lady Arya!” A male voice called her from a distance. Arya turned to face her cousin coming her way dressed for the hunt.

For a second she didn’t know what to do, but running wasn’t an option. He didn’t seem angry or displeased to see her. If anything his face had a hint of concern as he approached her with an uneasy smile.

“Your Highness.” She answered as she bowed in an awkward courtesy. “I was trying to find my way to the stables, but I’m not sure where it is.”

“So I thought.” He answered politely. “I’m going there to meet your brother. I can escort you, if you want me to.”

“I guess it’s the wisest thing to do.” She said it without enthusiasm as he offered her his arm. “Thank you.”

“It’s easy to get lost inside the Red Keep, but I understand Winterfell is bigger.” Jon said it as he guided her through the endless halls and corridors. “I would like to see it with my own eyes for a change.”

“It’s fairly different from this place. Beautiful in its own way, but not everyone will recognize it.” Arya replied.

“I’ve never seen anything but King’s Landing and it’s generally only the Red Keep and the Great Sept. I would like to see more of the Seven Kingdoms.” He said in an attempt of sounding pleasant. “Maybe I can arrange for a trip to The North in the future so you can show me your family’s home.”

Arya said nothing about it and why should her? He was trying to sound sympathetic, but they knew nothing about each other to make conversation slightly easy. An awkward silence took over the place as they walked together.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Jon finally said to break the silence.

“Why? You said nothing wrong and I even have to admit you were perfectly courteous with me. I was the rude one.” Arya replied unwillingly. “I should be the one apologizing.”

“I startled you and I’m sure we should have met in a more adequate scenario. Your absence at the feast upset me, but I should have been more comprehensive instead of taking it as an insult.” He was ready to blame himself for their argument when Arya was painfully aware that she was the one to blame for that. “It’s not easy to fulfill someone’s expectations and I think you may have dreamed of marrying a different kind of man. I’m not exactly impressive. I know that, but I will try to compensate you somehow.”

“You honestly think I refused to attend the banquet because of your looks? Gods! You are even more insecure than I am.” Arya answered as she rolled her eyes with disdain. “I couldn’t have cared less about your face, but I’m really pleased to see that you lack the silver hair and purple eyes. As for wishing to marry a different kind of man...I would rather not marry a Targaryen, but I’m trying to hold to the idea that you are more wolf than dragon.”

“I’ve been accused of not looking Targaryen enough before. It used to distress me, but now I think I should be thankful to have my mother’s looks.” He tried to smile at her, but he had almost as much talent as her father in that. “Those things you said about my lady mother and the King...I had never heard of them in such a way, but I understand you have reason to think so low of me and my family. I’m sorry about everything your family has suffered and I assure you that I am determinate to prove myself worthy of your trust and friendship if you give me a chance.”

“Giving you a chance is what everyone has told me to do so far. I’m honestly tired of hearing about it.” Arya said. “I’m not stupid and I know a lost cause when I see one. Even if I don’t want this marriage to happen, I know I can’t do anything to stop it without throwing the kingdom in utter chaos. Giving you a chance is the only thing I can do right now. Enough of this talk. I would rather hunt for a couple of hours and have some fun.”

“Your brother told me you liked to hunt. He also said you liked archery, swords and anything forbidden to you.” He grinned at her and seemed to be really pleased to know about those things. “I guess we have much in common. I never had a hunting partner or someone I could share my hobbies with.”

“Would you say the same if I told you I like doing needle work or drawing?” She asked with her voice full of skepticism. Jon laughed at that.

“I would say that I’m a disaster at drawing and I don’t know a thing about needle work, but I would ask you to show me your works of art.” He answered with humor which Arya thought to be refreshing. “I’m fond of swords and horses. Every once in a while I read something to keep my head busy, but I’m not much of a reader. I learned music and I like songs, I’m just not a gifted musician.”

“Good. I hate needle work and drawing. I can’t stay still for a long time, that’s why I like exercising. I like songs too, but never ask me to sing unless you want your ears to be damaged for life.”

For a while they chatted about trivialities until they joined Robb at the stables. Her initial impression about Jon soon had been corrected. He seemed to be a decent man after all and she could tell he was making a real effort to get on her good graces.

The afternoon proved to be a funny event, although they had found nothing worthy of hunting. No boars, deer or birds to bring back to the castle or give the hounds a chance to exercise. In the end it was just the three of them in a long ride across the King’s Wood.

Arya could tell that Robb seemed to be half in love with their cousin and Jon seemed way less uptight after a couple of hours chatting about anything that came to their minds.

The prince was polite and seemed harmless enough although Arya suspected that he had been sheltered from the gruesome points of the bloody history between their families most of his life. Also sheltered of everything related to the anti-Targaryen sentiment raging all over the North.

There was a reason why Robb had been sent to the capitol to take a place in the small council. Their father was well aware that the whispers of independence had in both Robb and Arya strong sympathizers. As the future heir to Winterfell, her brother became a threat to the political stability of the country and sending him to King’s Lading was a way to keep him as far as possible from the conspiracy.

That and trying to create a bond between the heir to the North and the heir to the Iron Throne. Her father was painfully obvious at times, but it had been a clever move that seemed to be working.

Jon seemed to be shy, or at least a quiet lad. Every now and then his eyes would search for her just to make sure she was having a good time. She couldn’t help sympathizing with him at some point. A childless mother, without much company and dealing with all the expectations of the realm while trying to not going mad. He could have been a spoiled brat, or even a cruel despot, but Jon’s conversation gave away a simple man, with simple tastes and a bit oblivious to what happened outside the palace.

If anything there was something tragic about him. Actually, there was something tragic about them both. They were supposed to find love in a land that had been poisoned by madness, war, blood and fire. It was a barren field. Arya doubted anything could grow in such a ground, but at least she didn’t hate him.

Arya went back to her chambers once they reached the castle. Jon seemed to be a bit disappointed with her sudden leaving without them having much chance of talking. She just wanted to be alone for a while and let all of her impressions about him sink in her mind for a while.

They would meet again during dinner, or some other formal event that she would be forced to attend. The Pact hadn’t been signed yet, so it was likely that it would happen that night over a banquet.

Sansa would probably smile and look radiant is she were in Arya’s place. Her sister would know what to do, but she was in the Reach about to give birth to her first child.

In one year the life she knew vanished. First with Robb’s marriage to Alys Karstark, then with Sansa being sent to Highgarden to marry Willas Tyrell. Bran soon would be sent to either Riverrun or White Harbor. He would either be groomed to knighthood or to marry one of Lord Manderly’s rich grand-daughters. Even if she remained at Winterfell it would no longer be her childhood’s home.

It was only a matter of time until her parents sent her away to be married and when they announced that Prince Jon was her suitor it became quite clear that her family couldn’t deny the offer. So far it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Jon wasn’t a hero from songs, but he wasn’t a villain either. That should count for something.

Servants were sent to her room to help her to get dressed. Arya realized that the sudden increase in her personal staff had the purpose of making sure she wasn’t planning to escape. It was probably her father’s doing. He knew her all too well and Jon didn’t seem to be prone to give away her early plans of escaping.

When they were done with her Arya could barely recognize herself in the looking glass. The pale blue damask dress with a collar of baby pearls and bell sleeves. Her hair had been braided in northern style. Arya doubted that she looked like a princess, but at least she looked more like a Lord’s daughter than a stable boy.

Once she was properly dressed her father came to escort her to whatever formal event they had to attend.

“You look like a queen, my dear.” Her father said with a sad smile on his face.

“I feel more like a bird in a golden cage, but thank you. I guess I’ll never be the pretty one, but at least I won’t be known as the hideous princess.”

“You are a different kind of beauty and it takes a different sort of man to appreciate it. You’ll be fine, my dear. Be brave for the sake of us all.”

“I’ll be brave.” Arya agreed.

“That’s my wolf girl.” Ned kissed her forehead fondly before offering his arm to escort her.

In the end there was a feast to celebrate the fact that the second Pact of Ice and Fire had been made. A Targaryen Prince would wed a Stark woman to reinforce an alliance that stood on precarious ground since Torhen Stark bent the knee.

Until that moment Arya hadn’t had the chance to see the King. Once she entered the room with her father on her side, Arya could feel everyone looking at her with curiosity. She was the new piece in the game and they were probably thinking of a good way to either dispose of her or get her favor.

Arya saw Jon standing in front of court in his finest. His hair had been pulled back and he wore a his princely crown. He looked good in black, with only a chain with golden dragons around his neck. She tried for find comfort in the shy smile on his face as she walked toward him, while ignoring the King’s expression of utter shock.

“It’s our pleasure to welcome you to the court, my lady.” King Rhaegar said as she paid her courtesies. “If I may say...You look much like my dear Lyanna. It’s almost unbelievable.”

The King’s voice was soft and warm in a way that made it hard for her to believe that Rhaegar had been capable of causing her family so much pain. Even in his age, he was still a handsome man, with elegant features and striking purple eyes that looked at her insistently.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace.” Arya answered as it was expected of her, before taking her place by Jon’s side.

The King did all the talking about how much that mach meant to the realm and how he valued the North while both Arya and her father remained sober. Jon didn’t seem comfortable in his role either. He simply sat by Arya’s side quietly, trying to look pleased with the perspective of having her for his bride. Once the speech was done, they ate peacefully while listening to a variety of musicians.

“How do find the court, my lady?” Jon eventually asked.

“Crowded and a bit intimidating, but you have better musicians than those who visited us in Winterfell.” She answered honestly.

“I bet they find you intimidating as well.” Jon answered. “You look splendid.” His voice sounded honest and Arya didn’t know how to answer to compliments.

“My sister would probably look better in this dress. She would probably be a better princess than I.”

“My late brother would probably be a better heir than I am. He would probably look like my father. I know I’m not exactly Loras Tyrell or a hero form songs, but I have other qualities.” Jon said awkwardly.

“What is this supposed to mean?” Arya asked with a smirk in her lips.

“What I’m trying to say is that I know nothing about your sister or her qualities. I just know you and as I said...You look splendid and I count myself as a lucky man for having you for my bride. I don’t expect you to feel the same about me, but I can promise that I’ll live to prove myself worthy of you.”

“Well...You don’t look bad for a Targaryen prince. In fact...I kind of like your face.”

What Arya didn’t expected was for him to smile as if he had won a great tournament. Arya Stark simply wasn’t ready to fall in love with his smile so soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift my fandom friends and I hope you'll all like it. Initially intended it to be a one shot, but now I guess it will be a short fic.  
> Reviews are highly appreciated.


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